


To Have and To Hold (In Your Wedding Dress)

by aponderingcharming



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/M, post 4x16
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:54:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8841817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aponderingcharming/pseuds/aponderingcharming
Summary: Post 4x16. A little ficlet about Felicity and her wedding dress.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Not sure what this is but it just flew out of me onto the page so thought I'd share! Hope you like what you read! :)

Felicity keeps it in the back of her wardrobe – on _his_ side of the wardrobe, in a box on the top shelf pushed in so far that she can’t get to it without standing on a chair. Some days she opens the closet, gets what she needs and goes about her day without so much of a glance in its direction; other days it’s the first thing she looks for, and the last thing she thinks of before she goes asleep.

She had picked it out after only three attempts at shopping, which surprised even her, but the moment her blues caught sight of that dress she knew she had found the one. And when she tried it on, _oh when she tried it on_ , it was like it was made just for her. As if the stitching and detail and shape and colour and fit was tailored exactly for her. There she was in her wheelchair in the boutique, hair up in its usual ponytail, glasses on, and wearing this dress – and it all clicked into place for the very first time. She was getting married to Oliver Queen. A man so imperfectly perfect for her. A man who held her heart in his hands. A man who she admired and respected and trusted and loved with every fibre of her being.

That dress was a symbol of their love, of them joining lives, of her becoming Felicity Queen. Or maybe Smoak-Queen – they never did finish that conversation about her name change. He said it didn’t matter to him if she took his name because he fell in love with Felicity _Smoak_ but she secretly loved the idea of taking his name because hearing her name mixed with his gave her all kinds of fluttery feelings that she wanted to feel for the rest of her life.

But now? Well now it just sat in a box in her wardrobe. Tucked away in the shadows, almost taunting her with its proximity.

How could it come to this? She asked herself that all the time.

Her heart never seemed to stop aching, never seemed to stop longing. Oliver was still a part of her world and they had been working together fluidly in the partnership they had built over the months and she never wanted that to change but, God, sometimes when she could see him approach from the corner of her eye her heart would skip a beat. When he was in the field, usually doing something reckless and stupid and ignoring all of her warnings because he was a man, she closed her eyes and counted to ten, making sure to keep her breath steady not just for him but for her, too. He invaded her dreams on a regular basis. Sometimes it’s nothing more than a passing encounter, other times it’s a blissful what-if, but oftentimes it’s nothing but pain because when she wakes up to her reality, he’s not there and the hurt of what he did stings her all over again like it’s happening for the first time.

There are days when her eyes drift over to her left hand and look at her bare finger for longer than necessary. She feels the weight as though the ring is still there and when she goes to twist it – out of habit – she remembers it’s gone and has to quickly divert to a different motion before someone catches her.

Things have gotten easier. Bearable, even. And she goes on with life and moves on as much as her heart will allow but there are still those moments where she can’t deny the simple fact that she is completely in love with Oliver Queen and doesn’t ever envision a time in her life when she won’t feel that way.

He once told her that she was his always. Well, he was her always.

And on days when that truth seems like it might swallow her whole, she gets out the chair, reaches to the back of the wardrobe, on _his_ side, pulls down the box, places it delicately on her bed, opens it and runs her fingers lithely across the pattern just for a few private, brief moments.

And then when her phone beeps and Oliver’s name pops up on it informing her of their mission, she closes it back up and puts it back in its place until another time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked what you read! Thanks for reading :)


End file.
